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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281956">Dad to the Dead Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Baby/pseuds/Gemini_Baby'>Gemini_Baby</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because we are not DC, Bruce refuses to take any criticism on the matter, Comfort, Dead people's problems, Fluff, Gen, Insecurity, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason is Bruce’s baby, Jason is baby, Jason is going to get all the hugs, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Warnings: self-hate, YeetDC2020, villain thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:29:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Baby/pseuds/Gemini_Baby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is not feeling well. He doesn't think anyone would care, doesn't believe anyone should care. Bruce thinks otherwise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>411</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dad to the Dead Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please read the warnings and don't feel pressured to read if it makes you uncomfortable in anyway. Always take care of yourself first ♥.</p><p> </p><p>Warnings: self-hate, suicidal thoughts, villain thoughts</p><p> </p><p>Also many thanks to graysonsflight, Syngaly, Squintyfist, and Fandom_Trash224 for helping with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Tonight has been a quiet night patrol wise. Not a really quiet night because Jason wasn't really that lucky. His younger brothers had found him sitting on the ledge of one of the rooftops, feet dangling. And they’d decided to fill it with a lot of chatter. Whoever says these two are the quieter of the bunch has never worn Jason’s shoes.</p><p> </p><p>Jason lets both of them do the talking and chattering. He remembers Damian discussing some kind of theory about Shakespeare and his tragedies.</p><p> </p><p>Something about how his tragedies are actually tragedies because no one listens to women in them while in his comedies, women are listened to and the story gets a happy ending. Something like that. It was an interesting discussion.</p><p> </p><p>But Jason couldn’t concentrate on anything said afterwards. Tim was telling him something about his current photoshop course. He had made a poster with … with whom? Them? His favourite band? Maybe something for a fundraiser? </p><p> </p><p>The thrumming in his head was making it hard to concentrate on what his brothers were saying.</p><p> </p><p>He feels guilty because he never wanted to ignore them. He wants to listen to what they are saying.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he would ask them, on some other day, on what they had been saying.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t think he can ask them to repeat it now. He is not sure if he can even speak right now as he doesn't trust his voice currently. For now, his helmet modifies his voice and hides the cracks in his voice. Hence, not revealing he is sick and how bad. </p><p> </p><p>He has not been feeling well for some time now. He's not exactly sure what he is sick with. But he knows that whatever it is, it's not pretty. </p><p> </p><p>He's been unnaturally cold ever since he came back. But lately he's been feeling the symptoms of a fever, even though his temperature wouldn't read as too high on a normal person. He also has a sore throat and symptoms of flu. He feels too tired. Looks like Jason is just vibing in the corner with some disease that also affects zombies. <em> Ha!  </em></p><p> </p><p>It's not like he hasn't suffered anything way worse. He shouldn't be really affected. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't even know what he is sick with. He didn't go for a check-up. He <em> can't go </em> for a check-up. </p><p> </p><p>Dead people don’t go to clinics or hospitals for check-ups. Dead people <em> can’t </em> go to clinics or hospitals for check-ups. Those tend to get awkward. </p><p>One minute you're there with a tongue depressor in your mouth, the next, the police are asking all sorts of questions about your estranged family.</p><p> </p><p>It gets awkward, real fast. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks he should head to his safe house now. He should say goodbye to these two. But there is the weight of his brothers leaning on him. He nudges them, trying to make them move their weight so he could leave.</p><p> </p><p>When he doesn't succeed in moving the tiny two, he looks down. They both are fast asleep leaning all their body weight over him. He tries to wake them up and tell them to go back to the cave too.</p><p> </p><p>After many tries, they cracked open one eye, made some inarticulate sound and went back to sleep leaning even more weight on him, as if it was possible. Every time he tries to wake them up, it seems like they are finally waking up but then they start dozing off. He groans. </p><p> </p><p>Looks like he can't rest any time soon. He picks them up and goes downstairs. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Can't faint. Can't faint right now.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It is a feat that he succeeds in going downstairs while carrying both of them when his head is spinning.</p><p> </p><p>He sits his brothers down on the bike. He sits on the bike, starting it and turning on the autopilot feature. His vision keeps swimming. At least after putting these two to bed in the cave, he can go on his way. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>He parks the bike in the middle of the cave. He doesn’t bother hiding the bike as it is also impossible to do so when both of his hands are full of baby birds.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>He walks to the bed area in the med bay where various beds are lined up. He puts them on the bed tucking them in. It’s not that late and someone would certainly get downstairs at some point anyway. And they will move the baby birds upstairs. </p><p> </p><p>No one would like it if he suddenly appeared upstairs in the manor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Enough ghosts haunt the manor. No need to add another one to the gloomy aesthetic of the hallways. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to linger more on the things he can’t do. <em> Dead people's problems.  </em></p><p>
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</p><p>So he follows the plan.</p><p> </p><p>His plan is simple. Put the kiddie brothers to bed and silently sneak out. </p><p>He turns to leave. He has hardly taken the fourth step when he goes into a sneezing fit.</p><p>And they're all the loudest sneezes ever. They are ringing in his ears. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about that. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about that sound ringing in your ears. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Every sneeze is louder than the last.</p><p> </p><p>He's sure that by now all the bats and their mothers would have been alerted by now and would have left the cave, flying in a frenzy. </p><p> </p><p>So much for the silent, sneaking thing.</p><p>
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</p><p>He starts moving towards the bike but the water in the corners of his eyes, because of the sneezing fit, is fogging the lenses in his helmet. And he gets full body jerks every time he sneezes. </p><p> </p><p>Sneezing in the batcave was never a part of the plan. He needs to leave this place before he gets <em>busted </em>… </p><p>
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</p><p>Suddenly, he feels himself being picked up. He freezes for a few minutes. His breathing has started going nyooooooooooom. </p><p> </p><p>When he feels better, he can feel a hand on his back going up and down to help calm his ragged breathing. </p><p> </p><p>When he is able to register what has happened, another wave of panic rushes over him. </p><p> </p><p>“Bruce. Put me down.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are sick.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am fine.” <em> Aachoo </em></p><p> </p><p>Bruce walks, carrying him, to one of the beds in the med bays and sits him down on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me go”</p><p> </p><p>“You are not well.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Well </em> , I am well. Perfectly well.” <em> Aachoo </em></p><p> </p><p>Bruce unclapses the helmet from the back.</p><p>
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</p><p>“What are you doing?” <em> Aaaaaachooooo </em></p><p> </p><p>“Looking at how fine you are,” Bruce replies while touching his forehead checking for temperature.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as his hand touches the forehead, it retracts with a flinch.</p><p> </p><p>“You are burning up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Already have in the past. Nothing new.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is not funny Jason.”</p><p> </p><p>“Neither is dying.”</p><p> </p><p>A lot of things go unsaid<em>. But neither is being sick. But neither is being sick and alone. But neither is being caught when you are leaving silently. But neither will be being told to leave because who <strike>wants </strike></em><strike><em>skeletons in their cupboards </em></strike><em>dead in their basement. </em></p><p> </p><p>Bruce puts the thermometer in his mouth.</p><p>
  <em> Maybe he wants to double-check if you even really have a fever and are not faking it. Wants to check if you are lying? What else could be expected from you anyway?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hates the thermometer. Hates that it is in his mouth. Dislikes how intrusive the rude device feels. </p><p> </p><p>Every second feels longer than the last, dragging on. <em> The two minutes have become two decades. Two decades of Jason growing old and his children going to uni. Hypothetical children, of course, sadly. But anyone would get the idea.  </em></p><p> </p><p>It is a relief when Bruce takes out the thermometer and the intrusion ends. </p><p>
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</p><p>Bruce's focus is on the thermometer and his mouth is doing a weird thing. Not the usual weird thing. The unusual weird thing. <em> Ugh</em>. </p><p>It is hard to explain. </p><p> </p><p>While Bruce's attention is on the thermometer, Jason gets up to leave. </p><p> </p><p>“Where are you going?” </p><p>“I came here to drop your kids at their home. My work is done now so I am leaving.” </p><p>“You are my son too. ” </p><p> </p><p>There's a humourless laugh. “You don't think so.” </p><p> </p><p>“I do. And you are staying.” Bruce replies in his Dad tone. <em> That's just playing dirty.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He again gets picked up and sat on the bed. Why is he getting repeatedly picked up today? Maybe this was the last time. </p><p> </p><p>“You have a very high temperature.”</p><p>
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</p><p>“It's not that high.” </p><p> </p><p>Bruce tilts his chin upwards, brushing the hair away from his eyes with his hand. And the weird look has returned. “The thermometer is dead, now, because of how high your temperature is.” </p><p>
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</p><p>
  <em> What  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"It's as dead as me." </p><p> </p><p>Bruce replies with "Stop." His voice is hard but his face reveals nothing. </p><p>
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</p><p>“You should take your kids upstairs and tuck them in.” He says while looking at the sleeping comfortable forms of kiddie brothers. </p><p> </p><p>When he turns his head to where Bruce is standing, he sees him looking at him, cowl pulled back with a strange expression on his face. </p><p> </p><p>There's something soft in his eyes and a curl in his lips show that there's some old memory or story associated. With something similar, maybe? </p><p>
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</p><p>It seems like Jason should remember something. Something between them. From the past. He came back without many memories. </p><p> </p><p>Memories he should <em>have</em>, as judged and gathered by some of the things Bats Boss and the flock mention, sometimes, and look at him to maybe add on something to it. But he doesn't. He can't. </p><p> </p><p>A large part of his memories has been lost. The remaining have been divided into two parts.</p><p> </p><p>One is broken, fogged memories with gaps between them. They don't make any sense.</p><p> </p><p>The other part is the intact memories, clear as day, with not a crack between them. He can remember them <em> just fine </em> . He has dreams of them <em>just fine</em>. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They are full of screaming, pain, and agony. Filled with distress, panic, and fear.  </em>
</p><p>
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</p><p>It <em>hurts </em>that between his two fathers, it's the memories of <em> Willis </em>that stayed with him, fully intact. </p><p>
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</p><p>He comes back to himself after a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>Is that a smile on Bruce’s lips?</p><p> </p><p>And… Jason’s getting picked up <em>again. </em></p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing? Put me down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Doing what you told me to do.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you to let me go.”</p><p> </p><p>“You told me to put my kids to bed and tuck them in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Do that, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am doing just that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are not.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I am</em>. I am taking my kid upstairs to tuck them in.”</p><p> </p><p>The wetness on the corner of his eyes is because of the constant sneezing. Not because of any other reason. </p><p> </p><p>He tries to push and get his feet on the ground. He feels very offended. He’s a grown man! Grown men are not carried. Not by… not by their fathers.</p><p> </p><p>“I am a grown-up.”</p><p>“Mmhmm.”</p><p>
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</p><p>"I am not a baby, Bruce. I am nineteen years old."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah yes. A baby."</p><p>
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  <em> He is just taking you upstairs to throw you out from the main gate, like a garbage dump. </em>
</p><p>
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</p><p> That’s not true, right? Right?</p><p>
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</p><p>His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lightning in the manor.</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <em> And there he takes you towards the main gate. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Except, they don’t go there. Bruce continues to walk them further into the hall of the manor. And stops near the kitchen area.</p><p> </p><p>There’s Alfred appearing out of one of the doorways, obviously to attend to some errand from his infinite errand list.</p><p> </p><p>But Alfred stops in his tracks, for a couple of seconds, upon seeing them before he strides forward. </p><p> </p><p>Jason feels embarrassed because of his current situation. <em> He’s being carried like a baby!! This is embarrassing!!! And his grandpa has seen him like that!! Please excuse Jason while he disappears into a void, and rethink his life. </em></p><p> </p><p>Alfred stops before them and Jason can’t help hiding his face. If asked, he'll deny it later, that he hid it in Bruce’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Lad.” The word was spoken so softly and he can’t help but turn his face from where he had been hiding it, earlier.</p><p> </p><p>A single tear in one of Alfred’s eyes might have been Jason’s fever hallucination.</p><p> </p><p>Alfred puts his hand on Jason’s head. </p><p> </p><p>He missed this. He misses this.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, he is not crying. Teary eyes are just a side effect of flu, sneezing and fever. No other reason.</p><p> </p><p>But Bruce had to open his mouth.</p><p>“He’s sick.”</p><p>“`M not- <em> aachoooooooooo </em></p><p> </p><p>“I see. You are staying, Master Jason. Aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t say no to Alfred. So he only gives a short nod.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you please make some chicken noodles soup for him, Alfred?"</p><p> </p><p>"I was going to, even if you would haven't asked. It's Master Jason's favourite, after all." </p><p> </p><p>Alfred is smiling with his eyes. There's something which feels like nostalgia being reflected?</p><p> </p><p>And once again Jason finds that he can't remember something he's pretty sure he should. </p><p> </p><p>How much does he even remember about his own self? How much does he know about himself? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe you are really despicable. No wonder, you repel everyone. Maybe that's why everyone hates you.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That's not true. He…… he's </p><p>he's loved. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Who loves you?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>Yeah. Who does? Both of them are showing care only out of obligation. They are only doing this because they <em>have to. </em> Not because they <em>want to.  </em></p><p>
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</p><p>B carries him upstairs; the climbing making the spinning in Jason’s head worse. And he's forced to close his eyes because his vision keeps swimming and the view of stairs keeps getting distorted. He's trying to avoid that. With a minimal success rate. </p><p> </p><p>He grumbles the whole way, though. </p><p>He can't say no to Alfred but with Bruce, he can protest and argue to his heart's desire. He can. Right? </p><p> </p><p>Upon reaching the door of the room, it's close to impossible to open it. <em> Because you are a handful.  </em></p><p> </p><p>That's not true?</p><p> </p><p>It takes them several minutes to get past the door because they are too big. Even if they don't like to admit it. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce sets him down on the bed and leaves for a minute. Returning with a bundle of blankets. </p><p> </p><p>He wraps some of the blankets around Jason. They help a bit in lessening the shivering due to the fever. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce sits down beside him. He pulls Jason closer to him with an arm wrapped around him, tucking Jason's head under his chin. </p><p>
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</p><p>He is getting tight hugs. A lot of tight hugs. </p><p> </p><p>Alfred comes carrying a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and medicine. He hands them over to Bruce and leaves the room so that they are not crowding it. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce offers the tray to him but he shakes his head. He doesn't want to eat anything. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce fills the spoon with soup. Jason has to open his mouth because otherwise, the soup filled in the spoon would have dropped. Jason ain't ruining Alfred's handiwork.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce is trying to feed Jason. Like Jason is some baby! </p><p> </p><p>He is treating him like a baby. Jason will show him by acting like a toddler. </p><p> </p><p>When Bruce tries with the third spoon, Jason tries to throw some of the food the way toddlers do. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Gonna treat me like a baby? I'll act like a baby!!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Except, instead of Bruce feeling discouraged from doing that and making him angry at Jason, it has the reverse effect. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce is feeling more encouraged to treat him like a baby. </p><p> </p><p>He wipes the food from the corner of Jason's mouth with a handkerchief, which he has somehow produced from who knows where. That is soft and Jason loves it, okay? </p><p> </p><p>Bruce even holds the spoon like it is an aeroplane and flying towards Jason's mouth. And despite himself, Jason could not help but giggle. <em> The temperature must be very high!  </em></p><p> </p><p>Because of the ridiculousness and embarrassment, Jason would have thrown the bowl into Bruce's lap (like a baby) but Alfred, like the telepathic grandparent he is, somehow emerged near the doorway and cleared his throat. Like he knew what Jason was considering to do. So Jason is forced to drop that idea. </p><p> </p><p>Alfred has left the doorway. </p><p> </p><p>Jason would not do anything that Alfred would disprove of but that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to silently mess with Bruce when the man is fussing, <em> needlessly</em>, over him. </p><p> </p><p>It doesn't work though. But at least he feels loved. <em> For now.  </em></p><p>
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</p><p>Finally, they are done with the soup. Bruce puts the tray on the bedside, giving him a packet of tablets and a glass of water. </p><p> </p><p>Jason hates tablets. But he bites the bullet and swallows them with water. </p><p> </p><p>Did he mention that in one language, the same word is used for bullets and tables or pills? This makes biting the bullet phrase literal… <em> The fever is getting to his brain.  </em></p><p>
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</p><p>After he's done with the medicine, Old Man gets Jason to lie down and tucks him in. Making him a blanket cocoon. But he does not leave the room. Any other time, Jason would have screamed. </p><p> </p><p>B lies down beside him. Jason turns his face towards Bruce's chest and rests there. </p><p> </p><p>If Bruce's shirt gets wet and sticky, it's his fault. But Bruce doesn't mention that. </p><p> </p><p>He keeps combing his fingers through Jason's hair and rubs his back slowly while kissing his forehead. </p><p> </p><p>Neither of them says a thing but is a comfortable silence. </p><p> </p><p>But, unfortunately, it doesn't remain comfortable silence for long. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce had to ask what Jason would rather avoid answering. </p><p> </p><p>“Jaylad, why didn’t you go to a clinic? Or to Leslie’s?”</p><p> </p><p>“You are needlessly fussing too much, Old Man.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am not. Why were you so adamant about being fine?”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you it was nothing. It is nothing. It is only a slight fever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jay. Why are you being careless with your health?”</p><p> </p><p>He wouldn't have answered if he wasn't feeling exhausted and sick. Then again, he wouldn't even be here if he was not feeling exhausted and sick. And he would not have to answer any questions like that. </p><p> </p><p>But here he is.</p><p>He has the answer on the tip of his tongue. The answer he knows and thinks about sometimes but doesn't like to dwell on it for a long time. </p><p> </p><p>Fever makes a lot of people delirious. And Jason Todd is no exception. </p><p> </p><p>His mouth automatically starts spilling all the things he would have kept buried inside him otherwise. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t like that his angsty rant of an answer and cold voice sounds like a child’s complaints all full of squeaking and rambling broken by sniffles in between. Maybe Jason is wrong with that assessment. He never had the luxury of being that child so what does he know. </p><p>He’s both grateful and angry with his voice not sounding that bitter and broken.</p><p> </p><p>“I did not go to any clinic, Bruce. Because I can't go to clinics. Dead people don't go to the hospital for check-ups. They go there for autopsies."</p><p>
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</p><p>It's not right to dump all the information and feelings on Bruce when he had asked the question only out of his concern. But the stupid fever is resulting in his eyes closing but his mouth running. </p><p> </p><p>"Jay" </p><p> </p><p>Bruce maybe wants to tell him something comforting, something like he would heal and all that. But Jason shakes his head because he wants to, no, he needs to continue. </p><p> </p><p>He needs to let it out. </p><p> </p><p>“When you took me in, I got a chance. A chance to get an education. A chance to have a better life. A sense of security. A feeling of safety. A full stomach for the first time in forever."</p><p> </p><p>"Jay"</p><p> </p><p>He again shakes his head because he needs to complete this or he might explode. <em> Again.  </em></p><p> </p><p>"I got all those things. <em> You </em>gave me all those things. But when I died… when I died, all those things died with me.</p><p> </p><p>And when I returned, I returned without even full brain activity or consciousness, much less these things." </p><p> </p><p>"Jay" </p><p> </p><p>"No one ever said zombie rights. I don't do a lot of things, Dad. Because I <em> can't </em>do those things. I can't get healthcare. It is not vastly and readily available to even the living ones here but that's beside the point." </p><p> </p><p>"Jaylad" </p><p> </p><p>"For all the Shakespeare tragedy my life is, I <em> can't </em>go and get enrolled to study Shakespeare. I <em> can't </em>go to uni and have formal higher education. </p><p> </p><p>“I <em> can't </em>have a decent job. A job that doesn’t pay under the table. </p><p> </p><p>Everyone loves to make fun of my poor excuse for an apartment. But forgets that I <em> can't </em>rent proper housing. </p><p> </p><p>“I <em> can't </em>get a driving license. </p><p> </p><p>“It's not like I would want to ruin a mini human's future, <em> EVER</em>, but I <em> can't </em>ever legally adopt children. </p><p> </p><p>“And it's not like anyone would like to be with me. I would not wish any unstable person like me on anyone. But, technically, I <em> can't </em>even get married, if I choose to at a point. Why can't I be with my Mr Darcy? It's unfair."</p><p> </p><p>"I am sorry I didn't realize all this before, Jay".</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't want an apology. He is not saying any of it because he wants anyone to apologize. He's saying all this because he needs to vent. And the fever has removed the brakes for his tongue. </p><p>
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</p><p>"I am breathing again, yes. Yes, I am. But I am not living. I am not living, Dad. I am merely breathing." </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the final straw as he breaks down into full sobs. And he registers a couple of minutes later that he just keeps going on repeat<em> I am not living. I am not living, Dad. </em></p><p> </p><p>There are arms around him but they feel more like a constraint than a supporting hug they are meant to be.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I am not living. I am not living.” </em>
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  <em> “I don’t know if I want to be living. I don't even know if I should be living. I know that only breathing and not living is suffocating me. It is killing me from inside. I ...I will die again... This time because I was breathing.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p> There's a soft drag of the name, <em> “Jaylad” </em> and he’s being pressed closer. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shoot! He did not mean to say that sentence louder. And certainly not to Bruce.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There are kisses being planted on his forehead, in his hair and there's a hand wiping the tears from his eyes while the other hand rubs his back. </p><p>
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</p><p>There are soft murmurs of <em> “It will get better, Jaylad. It will get better. You will feel better.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>"Will it, Dad? When will it get better? I don't want to sound complaining but I only know the feeling about things getting worse and worse, all too well."</p><p>
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</p><p>He's being hugged. </p><p> </p><p>"I want to ask you something." </p><p> </p><p>"Yes?"</p><p> </p><p>"I want to re-adopt you, Jaylad.  Would you want the same?" </p><p> </p><p>"You don't have to. That's not why I said all those things. And let's forget what I said, okay?" </p><p> </p><p>"I want to re-adopt you. Not doing this because I have to. You can answer in the morning. After you have had proper rest, okay? " </p><p> </p><p>"`kay" </p><p> </p><p>He's falling asleep. He may or may not have dreamt Dad planting some kisses on his forehead and "I love you son" spoken very softly. </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and comments are welcome and appreciated 💜</p></blockquote></div></div>
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